Tales of Pain: A Prince in Mourning
by The Miser
Summary: A year after Bulma's death Vegeta reflects on the life he has lived and those who have ever mattered to him. In the end, how do you go on once you've lost what was most important to you? I've rewritten this story to take advantage of my improved skills as a writer so please read and review


A chilling wind whisked over the headstones, bringing forth sobering whispers of lives long past that floated aloft the icy gusts. If there were any words carried in the air then I could not decipher them. Not like I would care to listen even if I could make out what the wind was saying.

I've come to know this place very well. It's such a cold and desolate location. Stupid humans, they bury the dead and leave the monuments dedicated to the memory of the deceased outside for weather to destroy. Of course the cemetery had the adornments that humans seem drawn to. Well kept grass, colorful flowers, and colorless marble headstones. I see no need for any of the three. Saiyans, or what I recall of them, remembered the dead on their own. Only mighty Saiyans received entombment in the grand crypt. These tombs put the human graveyards to shame in every way. It's a pity the woman had to be buried here. Though I suppose it was what she wanted. Seems about right, she always did manage to get everything she wanted.

Her family paid an obscene amount for their little corner of this pitiful exscuse for a resting place. The area was fenced in and each cluster of stones received its own bench for grievers to use. Hers was no different. The Briefs' Family was buried in a simple little plot in the middle of a lush garden. Only three headstones lay before me. There was more than enough room for over twenty bodies to be stuck down in the ground.

I was appalled when I beheld the woman's memorial marker for the first time. A gray slab with a few sentimental jibber-jabber carved into it. Had I been in the mood to trouble myself then I would've gladly blasted away the disrespectful fool for thinking my woman deserved anything less than was the great Saiyan heroes received in those grand halls.

The engraving is little more than a phrase of the woman's choosing. _"To those who have past, I am with you now. To those who are now, remember me fondly. To those who are yet to be, I regret not meeting you. To those who are left to deal with Vegeta; good luck!" _To this day I can't help but smile upon reading those final words. Leave it to the woman to ruin perfectly good poetry with a witty remark.

It's hard to believe that it has only been a year since her death. I knew it would be different without that banshee around anymore, but I wasn't aware just how different. That blasted boy of ours never shows his face anymore. Just as well, he's too much like his mother for my tastes. The same goes for his sister. She may harbor my personality but fate repaid my sins by crafting her as an exact duplicate of her mother.

That's not to say I wouldn't mind seeing my children from time to time. Hell, that's what the woman would want. It's not that easy though. The boy seems to blame me for her death for whatever reason. It was one of the reasons I hated seeing him. My woman died from that damned virus that nearly took Kakarot. If anything, the boy's future-self is at fault for not bringing more of the cure. Bulla is a different story. She took the woman's death far better than her brother, something I find to be a damn shame considering that boy stood against the purest of evil in Majin Buu.

I refuse to accept visits from any of the woman's friends. Kakarot's harpy continues to this day to contact me every Sunday with hopes of receiving an invite. Her reason for contacting me is a bit of a mystery. Sure, her husband is my only admitted friend and my woman was her best friend but what in that would warrant her annoying me? I can easily imagine my woman leaving the harpy with orders to keep an eye on me.

Every now and then I catch a glimpse of Gohan in the news for one reason or another. His little brother is not allow by any means to come anywhere near my dwelling. Trunks blindly accusing me of the woman's death is bad enough, but that brat agreeing with him was worse. They're both idiots. Gohan's child pops in from time to time with Kakarot for training. She never joins us though, the girl wouldn't last a second if she were to do so. Instead, the teen watches us intently. Kakarot has apparently been busy training her. I don't mind her presence, as long as she keeps to herself about matters other than training.

Then there's Kakarot, that blazing idiot. I can honestly say that I wouldn't be alive if not for his semi-weekly visits. Every emotion that builds up within me with my daily visits to this desolate graveyard is released in violent fashion upon Kakarot's face in the sanctum that is my training room. We talk from time to time, though the subject of our conversations is rarely anything deep or impactful. The clown and I don't really share interests. Our talks mostly consist of his rambling about whatever happening is occurring in his home. For the times that Pan is brought along we mainly speak about fighting and of significant battles from our past.

There isn't anyone else I care about. The rest of the woman's friends are inconsequential. I've never cared for any of them. Only the Namek and I share personalities, but he's never dropped by before. In fact, I probably wouldn't mind all that much. Though there's no use in wishing for anything to happen.

Wishes…that brings to mind those Dragon Balls that the woman frequently told stories of her journeys to find. I remember those artifacts with grief. They were the whole reason I ever came to Earth in the first place. It's funny that I never got to personally make a wish using those accursed spheres. I got close once, but that was a long time ago. My wish was always the same in my dreams; immortality. I desired that trait so I could defeat any opponent given enough time. All I can think of as a wish now would be to bring my woman back to me. She left orders dictating that no one was to wish her back. I, of course, had every intention to do so. The only thing that stopped me from digging her old radar out of the trash was a feeling in the core of my heart that told me to obey her. It's funny in a way; I can't disobey that woman even in death.

I readjusted my position on the bench opposite her marker. It has been several hours since my arrival to this place. No one else is ever here. This allows me to get lost in my mind during my visits. Normally I'd be half-way through a mountain of food by now, but lunch has lost its importance. Everything has. Everything except training that is. My skipping lunch has lead to me becoming startlingly thin. Kakarot urges me to eat better, but I don't see the point of it anymore. I'm not trying to please anybody and my body doesn't need to be in perfect shape anymore. There aren't any problems that Kakarot and Gohan can handle on their own. I'm very aware of my status on the food chain.

Little more than ten years ago I would've killed myself if I could see just how weak I'd be in the future. Kakarot's little protégé has already surpassed me according to his power level. Not surprising considering that kid is the reincarnation of that little pink bastard version of Buu. Though he doesn't train anymore and I could easily change it with enough training, Gohan still has more power than me. It's been that way since Cell. There was a time when I could've left that little brat in the dust, but that woman tamed me. She killed my instinct. Perhaps most shocking is that Gohan's child is making startling progress. I wouldn't be surprised if that girl surpassed me within the year.

A shutter woke me from my thoughts of power levels. I despise thinking about any of that anymore. It doesn't matter now. What use is the pursuit of power when mere children are surpassing you? I'll never be able to match up to Kakarot. I've made my peace with that. What I haven't made peace with is the fact that I've never accomplished any of my goals.

Back when I was but a vengeful child under the ownership of Frieza, my goal had always been to kill that lizard. I trained as hard as I possibly could to shape my body into a weapon. Thousands died at my hand in pursuit of that ideal. Frieza was to die and I would be that bastard's executioner. To this day I can recall my numerous dreams of shattering every bone in his body. Sadistic torture to avenge the pain he caused me with every second he dared to continue living. Nappa used to lull me to sleep with promises that he would see to it that Frieza's life would be mine to claim. That of course never happened.

The only major goal besides killing Frieza was to obtain the Dragon Balls and make myself immortal. That way there would always be a Saiyan presence in the universe. I recall actually smiling when Nappa picked up Raditz's transmission where he tricked the Namek into revealing info on those spheres. That should be a source of endless shame for the Namek. Raditz was by far and large not smart and yet he still managed to outsmart a member of the mystical Namekian race. That goal never saw fruition. Again thanks to Kakarot and his brat.

I don't make goals often. My life is lived in the present. A Saiyan of my ranking has no time for the past and the future will be dealt with when it arrives. The only significant forethought I've ever given was to someday usurp Kakarot in power. Even when I first bedded my woman I had this goal. It stayed with me up until Buu appeared. I've known Kakarot to be my superior in skill for a long time. My hope was that with enough training I could become more powerful. Then maybe, just maybe I could make that clown kneel before me and beg forgiveness for ever believing to be stronger than me. I know now that is a futile dream. Kakarot has ascended into his own level of power. That blasted low-level scrub is the living embodiment of that old Saiyan legend of the Super Saiyan. If I didn't know any better than I do now then I would worship the fool as a living god. However, I do know better and Kakarot will never receive that kind of praise from me.

My final disappointment has been in Trunks. The boy had so much damn potential. At one point in his youth I could easily see him surpassing Gohan and becoming the mightiest. Instead, however, Trunks saw fit to rival himself against the lesser of Kakarot's seed, an act that only lead to his forsaking of true training in favor of a career in Capsule Corps. Of course I was fine with the boy following in the woman's footsteps. All I wanted was for him to be superior in some way physically. However, that empty headed fool Goten has long since left my boy in the dust.

In the end I'm fine with it all. Frieza didn't fall to me, I am still mortal, Kakarot will never be subject to overpowering by me, and Trunks does everything he can to displease me. Disappointment isn't all that bad. It is, however, very difficult to withstand when life rubbed salt into those old wounds with the loss of the woman. How dare fate take her from me? That woman strived to do good her entire life. She even supported Kakarot when he took on an entire army as a child. My woman didn't deserve to go out like that. She looked pitiful in her bed. Of all women to ever exist, mine was the one who earned a painless passing.

Nothing will ever erase those memories from my mind. I've ironed over years of torture by Frieza, countless frightened pleas for mercy, and pain unimaginable in my mind. None of those thoughts cross my mind without my say. That isn't the case with the woman's passing. Those accursed memories flash before my eyes whenever they so choose. Her pale form buried beneath blankets. Warmth and happiness being visibly dragged out of her body by an ailment her future self cured without ever personally running into.

No one in this little unit of ours can understand what happened between my woman and me. The only person I've ever seen as my true equal was ravaged and destroyed slowly before my very eyes. Sure, Kakarot was nearly killed by the disease, but who cares about him? No one on Earth knew he was sick besides us. So, if he had died and we wished him back nobody would be the wiser. No, that wasn't the case with my woman. The entire world knows her. Her very name has been spoken commonplace every day on the news. There was no way to keep the vultures from knowing about the illness. It became public the very instant she saw a doctor. To bring her back after publically dying would've drawn too much attention to the Dragon Balls. I didn't care about the damned artifacts. Neither did Trunks, which lead to one of the few agreements I've ever had with the boy. My woman cared. More than anyone else, she cared about the welfare of the planet.

For ages evil people had sought out those legendary artifacts for selfish reasons. Tiny men erected entire armies to find them. Countless atrocities had been committed in the search for the wish granting spheres. She wouldn't have any of it anymore. The world had mostly forgotten about the balls and she didn't want that to change. Not even I could change her mind. The last time she had the ability to speak in an extended capacity she spoke of something that will always be screamed into the fathoms of my mind. _"We've all been killed at least once each, all of us dying in one way or another. It isn't natural what we've done. We need to realize that our time here is over. My company will continue on without me, Uub and Pan will protect the world without any of y'all. So just relax and let nature takes its course for once…and that means __**you**__ too Vegeta!"_ That stupid woman, I could've crushed this planet and most of the Solar System in one move if I had wanted to do so. Kakarot and I have long since proven that we are far greater than mere mortals. We've, more so him than me, achieved power that shouldn't even be possible. So why should we resign ourselves to mortal fate? My woman has practically created the modern world and provided it with all the bells and whistles that these puny humans adore so much. She deserved better, far better than she received, yet she simply resigned herself to death.

"Enough! I will not bother myself with it anymore today!" Veins throbbed dangerously as I buried my face into my hands and stifled pained groans of rage. The trees around me shook furiously as my temper came back under check. Echoes resounded off into the distance as my internal rage bubbled at the very thought of how pitiful the lot my woman drew in life. She deserved a glorious death, one reached after a lifetime of happiness; one where she was surrounded by her loving grandchildren, children, and friends.

My eyes locked onto the grass that lay empty next to the woman's headstone. Every ounce of anger fixing to finally come out fell back into silence as I stared blankly at the spot. Humbling is a word I can think of to describe the scene. There, right under that dirt and grass, is where my body will one day come to rest; a very fitting plot for the prince of the dead race. I do not know which of my spoiled offspring will one day occupy the spot next to me. Knowing that blasted boy of mine it will probably end up being his sister due to his not wanting to have anything to do with me.

The brat's lucky for a Saiyan boy. It was rare for Saiyan boys to know their fathers. At least that's what Nappa told me. Pity I wasn't old enough to truly remember what life was like on my birth planet. I would've liked to have known the culture of my people through experience rather than story. That stupid brat of mine, he is fortunate enough to know his father and he hates me. My father, the great king of my people, and I never got a chance to meet the man at an age where the memory would survive. There was a time where I considered Nappa a father-figure to replace my father with. However, the large oaf only ever praised me. I was treated as royalty and every whim of mine was indulged by him. Even at that young age I knew that was not how a father-son relationship should function. At least I had it better than Frieza…well…I used to think that was the case. I'm not so sure anymore.

King Cold, the tyrannical overlord of the universe, was that lizard's father. I find myself amused by the thoughts of their relationship. The always cocky and proper Frieza would get mistreated daily by his father. Strongest in the universe my ass, both Cooler and Cold surpassed that lizard at different points. The only reason Cold maintained a daily contact with his younger son was because Frieza entertained him. A far more colorful personality is what doomed that tyrant to parental attention. Cooler was ignored altogether by the overlord and only ever got mentioned in passing or in some sort of insult.

Yet despite the drunken overlord making life hell for his lesser son, I envy Frieza. What lessons did my father have that I could've benefitted from? Nappa only ever sang praise of my late father and was not trustworthy enough to give honest opinions on the deceased king. I asked Raditz about him once. All I got in return was a snarky response that earned him a few days in a regen tank. It's unfortunate that I never got to know the man that birthed me. I would've liked that. To know whether or not he was proud of me or not would be something that would've helped me sleep through a great many nights.

I looked for the old man in hell. My failed attempt to off that fat pink blob gave me an opportunity that I had wanted to have for my entire life. The only problem was that I had sorely underestimated just how large hell actually was. If not for the opportunity to have a second shot at that pink menace then I would've stayed down there until my father's soul could be found.

There's nothing that can be done about it I assume. My actions in protection of this planet have probably bought my way into heaven by this point. I'll never get the chance to talk to my sire. The same goes with my mother, though I've never felt a strong urge to know the woman.

My woman used to cry for me in regards to my life. I can't believe she used to waste so many tears over times long past. Though I suppose I have Kakarot to blame for that. She grew up around that twit. The clown had access to absolutely everything I didn't under Frieza's foot. In that regard it makes sense that my woman would feel so absurdly sorry for something that lost its hold on me upon the tyrant's death, ironically dealt to him by the kind of man my son should've grown into. None of the buffoons that litter her group of friends have known true strife and suffering. My every breath was one that was allowed to me by an accursed lizard that made me call him master. So the concept of long-term slavery would've been understandably alien to her.

"What is next for me woman? Kakarot and that reincarnated brat have got this rock guarded well enough. My existence impacts very few people. Kakarot cares, but the fool would probably care just the same about something shiny if it were to glisten bright enough. Bulla's got her own life to tend to. I refuse to make her put everything on hold just for me. She's going to be smart, like you woman. She's also going to make an honest man out of that foolish cur that dared to seek out her affection. Trunks..." My mind flooded with images of the boy as a child. Back then he cared for me, enough that he practically worshipped me. I still love the boy dearly. My love for him will always remain, even if he never looks at me as his father. "He will live just fine without me. You see woman? There is no one on this rock that requires my presence. I'm lost without you." My words drifted off into the wind as the unresponsive headstone looked back up at me.

I spoke the truth to the air around me. My whole existence used to revolve around very trivial matters. At first it was simply overthrowing Frieza and punishing the lizard for everything he had ever done to me. After that I focused entirely on surpassing Kakarot in terms of power and finally defeating him. Alas, I'm left with no purpose. I'm the last prince of a dead race, my children do not require my presence any longer, my rival has long since left me in the dust, and I'm left with no direction. A depressing matter if there was ever one. In fact, I was briefly considering returning to a life evil the other day. However, the problem wouldn't be solved by that. Why would I be turning evil? I would I have no motivation. Rather than follow that train of thought, I decided to do some training, something that has had a calming effect on me since the woman's passing.

Feeling the emptiness within my stomach becoming too much to tolerate, my eyes turned to direction of my home. A sad echo continued through my mind as I awaited a response that would never come. I am indeed nothing without that pitiful human pest here screaming at me for one reason or another. The silence is the worst part. Nappa used to tell me stories about the mental disorder known as Empty Planet Syndrome, a typical ailment that developed in those deserted on barren planets by Frieza. The absolute lack of another being to share at least a living glance with often lead to those unfortunate enough to develop it to lose their minds and die a lonely death.

"My hunger demands an end to today's session. I will return tomorrow woman." My words disappeared into the air as I disappeared into the distance. Long ago I resigned myself to the fact that this was the routine that would persist until I lay dead somewhere. Only then would I be re-united with my woman; fate that seems almost worth destroying the Earth to accomplish.


End file.
